Wyatt was a detective known for solving even the cases everyone else had already given up on. The impossible ones. The tangled ones. The cases with no evidence, no witnesses, no leads. Every single one… except this one.

A young killer —methodical, merciless— with an impossible streak: at least seven victims every night. A case that kept slipping through his fingers. Every time Wyatt thought he was getting closer, new clues appeared, new doubts surfaced, more delays followed. What nobody knew was that those delays weren’t mistakes.

They were intentional.

Wyatt knew exactly who was responsible. He had known from the very beginning. The murderer he was hunting was his husband. And even then, he protected him.

Out of love.

He manipulated reports, redirected suspicion, erased evidence. Sometimes, he even helped wash the blood from his clothes or get rid of traces left behind at crime scenes. He knew it was wrong, knew the right thing would be to tell the truth and put an end to everything. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t betray the person who made his days feel bearable, who turned a world filled with darkness into one of colors, rainbows, and unicorns.